100 Gelphie Drabbles
by ElphieXGlinda
Summary: Well, I got roped into the 100 Wicked drabbles, and figured that it'd be brilliant if they were all Gelphie. So, here's the subsequent ramblings.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I do love these here drabbles, mmmyep...**

**Drabble One**

Glinda sat in the carriage, watching the slim green form slowly disappear in the crowds of emerald-clad citizens. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and the people next to her pointedly looked away.

She clutched the bread to her chest, eager to have anything reminded her of Elphaba, no matter how vague. How could she do this to her? Just when Glinda had convinced herself that life without Elphaba was an impossible dream, the rug was pulled out, and Elphaba was waving goodbye.

Suddenly, she heard shouting in the back of the carriage. A dark figure clambered up from the street outside, panting. The hood fell back and a familiarly angular green faced looked at her, smiling hesitantly.

The next thing she knew, she was pressing herself further into Elphaba, fighting to deepen the desperate embrace, not caring that the people beside them were staring.

Her dream had come true, and at least for this moment, she had Elphaba, and nobody in all of Oz would ever bring her down.

**A/N: Can ya spot the playverse quote? Hehehe...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Drabble Two**

Glinda and Elphaba stood in the closet, bodies pressed together, giggling quietly.

"Elphaba, Miss Galinda, wherever have you gotten yourselves? Are you hiding under the bed again?"

Nessa's piercing voice filled the room and small closet, and Glinda winced. She glanced at Elphaba, who mimed stabbing herself, and giggled all the more.

"I swear, if you two are doing anything...bad...I'll tell everyone!"

"Well, Glinda, what are our options? Perhaps we'd ought to come out of the closet, at last."

Glinda just doubled over with laughter, pressing a hand over Elphie's mouth. She felt teeth prick her hand, and raised an eyebrow.

"Well, perhaps we should _stay _in the closet, after all..."

**A/N: I'm working on IE, I swear I am!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Drabble Three**

_Elphaba's dead..._ These words echoed in Glinda's mind endlessly. This couldn't be true. Could it? Could her hero, her Elphie, really be dead?

Elphie, who had held her while she lay, trembling, while fierce thunderstorms raged outside? Who had sat by her side, patiently, while she learned of art and philosophy? The girl that snuck her food from the kitchens and would stay up with her, telling secrets?

But it was true, and no farse apologies and flippant condolences could begin to heal her shattered heart.


	4. Chapter 4

**Drabble Four**

Elphaba lay tucked under the covers, mind wandering as it always did. Could Nessa's ramblings have a truth to them? Was there really a greater Good, a god to fulfill her wishes? No, of course not, because--

"...Elphie!" A shape entered the sheets next to her, burrowing into Elphaba's side like a giant warm kitten. "Elphie, do you believe in ghosts?"

"Now, what kind of _random..._well, I certainly hope not. My current life is dreary enough, it'd be a just dessert to have an afterlife be so unexciting. Is this what's keeping you up, my pretty?"

Glinda wiggled around, her nose pressed against Elphaba's. "Well, no. Sometimes I just think too much, and can't get to sleep."

This honestly surprised Elphaba, and she ran her finger down Glinda's arm, almost to reassure herself that Glinda did, in fact, exist. And Glinda surprised her for the second time that night, by leaning forward slightly, and pressing her small pink lips to Elphaba's.


	5. Chapter 5

**Drabble Five**

Elphaba did love Fiyero, in her own way. She was genuinely glad to see him, glad to have someone to break her constant chain of loneliness.

She let him put his hands on her, for he was familiar, at at least tender. She could pretend the hands roaming her body were smaller, and ivory white, soft. She could pretend the body above hers was pale, feminine, with golden hair trailing down the sides of her head to rest on the pillow beside Elphaba's head.

At least during all of this, she could turn her head to the window and see the stars gleaming in brightly. She could be comforted by the thought that, miles and miles away, Glinda would be on her terrace, gazing at the same exact stars, as she had promised.

Elphaba continued pretending all of this, placating her inwardly sobbing mind.

She could also pretend it was alright when the name she cried out into the brown, muscular shoulder was Glinda's.


	6. Chapter 6

**Drabble Six**

Glinda tucked herself under Elphaba's chin, savoring the warmth and sense of protection, the sense that she was complete. That Elphaba was her second half.

Why not? After all, you never know when your last embrace could be, that last feeling of love. Glinda feared that most of all. Losing love, never to be found again.

The sense of finality and gravity bore heavy on her heart, and she turned her head to the pillow so the tears would leak onto the pillow, instead of Elphaba's prone shoulder.

"Elphaba?" An elegant green neck craned, black eyes peeking down at her from a deep fringe of hair. "Yes?"

"Is this the last time I'll see you? Be honest, please." Glinda didn't think she could handle flippant lies.

The neck returned to its former stance, and arms squeezed her slightly. "Yes."


	7. Chapter 7

**Drabble Seven**

Glinda lay on her stomach, feet kicking the air as she steadily regarded Elphaba. Elphaba's cheeks darkened slightly as the intensity of her stare increase.

A heavy sigh. "Glinda, I'm not going to this dance. Can you honestly imagine one such as myself traipsing around? I daresay I'll put the people off their punch."

Glinda rolled her eyes. "Come now Elphie, it'll be wonderful! How do you expect to make friends if you don't open up!"

Elphaba snorted, raising an eyebrow and sprawling on her bed. "Why on earth would I open to such people? That's similar to unlocking one's front door to allow rapists in."

"So you're afraid they're going to rape you?"

An unwilling smile rose to Elphaba's lips. "Intellectually, my dear."

Glinda slipped into Elphaba's bed, ignoring her shriek as Glinda's cold feet came into contact with her own.

"Well, if you don't go, I won't go. I'll stay right here, forever."

Elphaba kissed her forehead gently, finding a comfortable position. "Proper incentive for me to never attend a dance for the rest of my life."


	8. Chapter 8

**Drabble Eight**

Glinda shut the door behind then, turning around to stare, affronted, at Elphaba's back. Sensing this, Elphaba turned around, eyebrow raised.

"What can I--"

"You never told me you could sing!" Glinda interrupted her, hands on her hips. Elphaba opened her mouth to make a scathing remark, stopping when she saw the light pink hue in Glinda's cheeks.

"Well, you never asked. I wasn't aware I was supposed to read your mind."

Glinda tapped her foot sharply. "So..."

"So?"

"So do you have any wonderfully amazing talents you'd like to tell me about?"

"I can recite the alphabet backwards."

"Really?"

"No."

Elphaba turned, amused, to look at Glinda, completely surprised when their lips connected. The kiss was soft, and lingered a few moments.

Elphaba pulled back slightly. "I also happen to be wonderful in bed." She murmured, smiling.

Glinda giggled. "We'll see about that."


	9. Chapter 9

**Drabble Nine**

Sometimes Glinda liked to think of her life as a piece of music. The grace and flow, the jagged ends and crescendos.

Her birth was obviously the first fanfare. Flutes and clarinets played merrily as she flitted through her childhood, pain-free and winsome. Upper register, upbeat, a purely joyful movement.

Then she met Elphaba. The music had never been the same. The deeper instruments came forth as she first experienced rejection, hate, sorrow.

But look, a rise! The music rediscovered its previous vivacity as she fell in love, experienced desire, _true _happiness, truly being appreciated.

As sure as no music is true without complication, no life is meaningful with no deeper feeling. Elphaba left her in the carriage, eyes pooling with tears, and the music came to a standstill. Surely there had to be reprieve from this pain. Surely this couldn't last, this numbness to the life she used to greet with open arms.

Yet the music goes on. Movements come and go, superficial and false. But hark, a crescendo! The climax has been reached, the music swells and rises to unknown heights! Elphaba, her Elphaba, has come back to her! She prays to the Unnamed God that she will never leave her again. And she doesn't.

Two wrinkled, wizened bodies rest in bed, laying their heads upon the pillow. Eyes close. A double bar is reached. The music stops.


End file.
